Emblem of the Dragon Slayer
by Exilo
Summary: A Monster World fic, centering on The Buster Blader, with cameos from a variety of other monsters: the Harpy clan, Serpent Night Dragon, Goblins Attack Force and the Marauding Captain. I'm bad at summaries, but please give it a chance and review.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

The Blader set his great sword down and decided to make camp for the night. He had misjudged the size of this forest when he first entered, having hoped to reach the other side before nightfall, but the trees just seemed to go on and on, and the sun was sinking behind the horizon quickly. Highway men were said to roam these woods when the moon was high in the sky, but the Blader was not a small creature by humanoid standards, he even dwarfed a few monsters, so felt he had nothing to fear. Let them come, they would be in for a rude surprise.

After a few moments he had a nice fire built and stretched his hands to absorb the warmth. The flames danced. The air above it shivered and waved and distorted from the heat.

Sharp ears and trained senses alerted him to the distant snapping of twigs beneath clumsy footsteps. A highway man? A bandit? Or perhaps a fellow traveler, lost in the labyrinth of wood that stretched to the skies, nearly bloating out the moon's light. He stood and pulled his sword closer, resting the grip on his thigh. At a moment's warning he could spring to action to cut down any hostile. For how large the Blader was and how great his sword, speed was not lost to him. Not the speed of the ninja or the elves, but the speed of a trained swordsman, who could use his blade as dexterously as most could use their fingers.

He listened, the cackles of the fire accompanied by the clumsy steps that grew louder and louder, closer and closer. Most bandits sought stealth, to slit their victim's throat when they slept. And though most bandits failed miserably, they at least tried, yet these footsteps seemed blatant, as if the stranger wanted to be heard. Perhaps a highwayman then, but it didn't sound like the clip clop of hooves. Perhaps he was just being nervous, and it was just a fellow traveler.

The brush parted and a portly, green skinned gobliny fellow came stumbling in. He was quickly joined by four or five more, all aesthetically similar, each with their signature bloating and sagging stomach and beady eyes. They were identical save slight differences in height and battle wounds: scars and blemishes on their leathery skin, one was missing a red eye, another an ear.

The Blader watched them sharply, carefully, sizing their strength and grit: would they duel to the bitter end or flee the moment they realized he was not willing prey. He guessed the latter. Goblins were notoriously lazy and cowardly. They would swarm and attack when they commanded an advantage over their opponent, but if their foe was of greater strength they would flee like terrified mice.

"Your gold sir," the shortest goblin said in surprisingly good speech. Usually they used broken tongues, but some had brains between their ears, and were able to speak with some dictation.

"I have no gold," the Blader said. "All I have are my rations, my armor, and my blade, and you will not be having any of them."

"Oh, come now," the goblin said. Gesturing with his hand, his comrades spread out. They outnumbered the Blader, the poor bastards, for that gave them an unwarranted sense of strength. "Have a heart. We were ambushed by this bastard when we were sleeping, beat my men to a pulp. Morale is a little low, and I'm going to be needing a little something to keep my men happy."

The Blader swung, the thick, strong blade slicing through the lead goblin, so cleanly his heart beat four times before his top half slid wetly to the ground, a look of confusion spread across his pained features.

"Leave," the Blader said again.

The goblins stumbled and crawled over each other, each desperate to escape to the relative safety of the brush. He let them go, not bothering to chase after them. Even if he were to kill them, not much good would be done in the world. There were always more goblins, more bandits, more highwaymen, mor dragons. Kill them and another took their place. He cleaned the foul smelling blood off his blade and set it back down. The goblins actually smelled worse when alive than dead, but the corpse was still rank with rot. He threw the corpse of the goblin into the fire, watching it burn with mild interest before settling back down onto the log. The odor still lingered, but it was at least deadened by the flame's embrace.

The Blader slept lightly, something he had learned to do long ago. Deep enough that his eyes could rest and his mind could relax, but still alert enough that he would wake should anyone approach. If the goblins decided it would be wise to try again when he was asleep, they would be in for a rude surprise. This time he wouldn't settle on just a show of force.

There were people who could move with such stealth that even he wouldn't notice, so he was only mildly surprised when his eyes opened and he noticed the man sitting across from him. He wore heavy armor, similar to the Bladers, yet not quite as concealing. There were noticeable holes in the plate: at the joints, the inside thigh, the knuckles and wrist, the throat. He was armed with a duo of swords, one worn on his belt and another on his back, the latter significantly larger than the former.

The Blader casually took hold of his own sword and lifted it, resting it on his shoulder and standing to his full, impressive height. The victor would be determined by the skill of the two fighters, he knew that much, but any man who said that a being of greater stature didn't intimidate him in the slightest was a simple liar. "Good morning stranger."

The blonde man smiled. "Good morning, dragon slayer. You wouldn't have happened to see a bunch of goblins come by here, would you?"

"Yes, a little after sunset."

"You wouldn't have happened to kill any of them?"

"Just one."

"That means there are still five left. Pity, I doubt I'll be catching up to them. Goblins run faster than a steed when they're afraid. Where are you headed, dragon slayer?"

"The Hunting Grounds, to the north."

"Have some business with the Harpies?" the blonde man asked.

"You might say that. I've been looking for an old friend of mine; the Harpies should be able to aid me in my search."

The blonde man stood up. "Then good luck to you, dragon slayer. I'm sure you know, the Harpies can be quite disagreeable. Be careful, my friend." He stood and gave a slight bow, before starting off after his goblin quarry.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

The territories most often established as the Hunting Grounds of the Harpies were about a hundred square miles. However, as legend said, no one stepped foot into the lands without the Harpies knowing about it. If that was true, the Blader wasn't sure. There were no clear barriers separating the forests from the Hunting Grounds, so he wasn't sure he had even entered them, but he kept pressing on.

Above him, wings flapped and a feather floated into his view. The sky grew dark as the sun was bloated out. The Blader looked up to see a titanic pink body fill his vision and falling fast. He leapt backwards, landing gracefully as the dragon touched with a loud boom and a residual snarl. Beside the beast, a Harpie landed, her white plumage and green hair contrasting sharply against the crimson scales of her pet. Somewhat comically, she was holding the chain that was wrapped around the dragon's thin neck, as if she could somehow maintain control through physical strength alone. She floated up and stroked the dragon's cheek. This seemed to calm it down, though it maintained its fierceness.

"And what are you doing trespassing in my forest?" the Harpie asked. "Speak quickly. My baby is hungry, and I am quiet tempted to let her have her fill."

"I am looking for something, Mistress Harpie, a great dragon."

"Well, you have found one right here, isn't that right sweetie?" the Harpie said, snuggling close to her pet and embracing it around the neck. The dragon gave a low purr, closing an eye and returning the affection.

"While you most definitely have an impressive specimen, she is not my interest. The dragon that I seek is larger, stronger, and much more fierce. A serpent dragon with eyes as red as flame and a shriek that would make your bones raddle."

"Oh," the Harpie said amused. "I'm afraid you've hurt my precious' feelings. She's going to have to do something about that."

The dragon gave a shriek, its eyes now glowing with fury as its maw began to smoke. It was an impressive specimen, to be sure, the Harpie had done well to raise it from a chick, but the Blader had known fiercer. There was something pampered about the dragon, and that would prove its weakness. When its mistress was in danger, it would fight with ferocity that rivaled the Blue Eyes, but that same ferocity couldn't be summoned on command, only in extreme duress.

The dragon reared its head back, jawing igniting with flame, before it spat the torch forward. The Blader leapt back casually, drawing his sword from his back and holding it at the ready. The pet dragon lashed forward, snapping jaws so close to the Blader, he could feel the heat resonate in his armor. It snapped again, and he swung, the flat of his blade bending on its muzzle. The dragon's long neck craned back and it gave a snarl. Jaws snapped forward, and the Blader caught the maw and held it open. He strained and twisted, throwing the head to the ground. The body followed, and the Blader leapt, landing gracefully on the pet dragon's stomach. He rested his blade on the dragon's stomach, and felt the skin tingle under the cold steel. A moment's pressure and the sharp sword would run through its chest and pierce its heart. The dragon gave a slight whimper as he lifted the blade, but a whip curled around his sword and yanked it away from the pet dragon's chest. He braced himself, holding his weapon tight, the dragon still not moving, perhaps still fearful that the Blader would reclaim his sword and swipe its throat.

"I saw a dragon swimming through the skies two nights ago," the Harpie hissed.

The Blader leapt off the dragon's stomach. It hissed once or twice, gave a breath of fire that disintegrated in the air before doing any real harm, and returned to its mistress' side. The Harpie stroked its brow and whispered encouragement, which seemed to satisfy the dragon, who returned to the throaty purrs.

"A serpent dragon," the Harpie continued. "Darkness at its top, and pale at its underside, eyes as deep as blood, loud hisses every time it moved. It was headed East. Now leave before I relieve you of your head."

"Thank you for the help," he muttered, resting his sword on his back and walking off.

He was still in the Harpie's grounds, he was sure, but they must have known better than to bother him. Occasionally he would catch glimpse of a curious Harpie chick, floating over head or hiding behind a tree. They did their best not to be seen and he paid them no mind. Let them revel in their belief that they moved with stealth, just as long as they didn't try anything.

At last he put the Hunting Grounds behind him and entered a vast expanse of dusty wastes, off in the distance he could barely make out the silhouette of a mountain range that most likely served as his quarry's nest. Now he had a visible destination.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

With the exception of the occasional ornery raptor, the Blader passed through the wastelands without too much trouble. He had to stop and rest when the sun was highest in the sky, and the day was at its hottest, but the rest was brief and he was quickly on his way. The mountain where his quarry awaited grew clearer as he grew near, until he stood at its base. It was a grand mound of earth, the top spiraling high out of view. There was something of a beaten path that he followed for some of the way, and for some of the way he climbed, sword strapped tightly to his back. The height was dizzying. The air was thin. His quarry certainly had chosen a wonderful location. The serpent dragon had no trouble with breathing at high altitudes, the dragon's skin was too thick to be bothered by the frigid air.

The Blader had scaled halfway up the mountain, the sun was sinking behind the rim of the horizon, when he first heard that shrieking caw that belonged to the serpent dragon. He pressed close to the mountain and continued his ascent, mindful of the shrieks and cries of the dragon, as they grew closer and closer.

By grace of some higher power, he reached a protruding cliff where he could gain a decent footing and take hold of his blade, just as the serpent found him. It was an impressive specimen, a different shape than was so commonly seen swimming through the skies. It wasn't roughly humanoid, as the pet dragon was, but its body was long and thin, a single shape from tail to snout, the only blemishes on its snake like body being its feeble arms and legs; each ending in claws that could rend flesh with relative ease. It uncurled, extending fully before doing a few loops, opening its beak wide and giving another shriek.

The Blader leapt, sword held in an vertical arc, ready to slash into the serpent. And though the Blader was not slow, the serpent was just a tad faster, twisting like a cracking whip, and hitting the Blader in the chest with its tail. He was flung back into the mountain, though the thick armor prevented him from sustaining any serious injuries. There was stiffness in his back and it was harder to keep a grip on his blade, but he stood up, at the ready.

The dragon shrieked, and blasts of shadow radiated from its form, assaulting the rocks around him, batting against his armor and blade as he stood at guard. The attack was more an annoyance than anything else. He brushed them away and leapt again, the shadows slicing through the air around him as he drew close to the serpent, who too late realized that the attack wasn't having the affect it often did. The Blader reached out his hands and took firm hold of the serpent's wing, yanking and pulling, opening slashes in the dragon's hide with quick swipes of his sword. The serpent gave a long and angered screams, snapping at the Blader, and the Blader just kept yanking at the wing until the membrane started to tear, which just made the serpent cry and hiss louder. The Blader became aware that he was falling, the serpent no longer able to sustain flight, both do to the damaged wing as well as the extra weight.

As the ground drew closer, the serpent beat its wing and curled its body, trying everything to slow itself down. The Blader realized the danger he was in as well, and released the dragon, but took firm hold of one of its claws. With its wing released, the dragon was able to slow itself, and the Blader, down enough that they both avoided death.

A fierce vibration rose through the Blader's body, and he stumbled, leaning heavily on his blade to keep from falling over. A hot breath blew over his blindside, and he turned, just in time to see the gigantic maw of the serpent snapping towards him. He caught the beak, holding it apart, working to push the teeth apart. The dragon's jaw began to crack, a low popping and snap like breaking twigs was heard and it gave a pained cry. It twisted, its rear half crashing down onto the Blader and crushing him into the ground. The dragon slithered a distance away, shrieking and hissing, its stubby arms rubbing it jaw as it balanced on its hind legs and craned its neck down.

The Blader found his sword and charged forward. He didn't care much that at some point it had been broken, and almost half of it was lying in shattered pieces on the ground. He thrust the broken half of his sword into the dragon's chest, and it snarled and hissed, twisting and whipping him backwards. He tumbled along several feet, finally coming to rest a good twenty feet away. The Blader regained enough focus to stand and wait as the dragon slithered like a snake, its feeble little legs simply helping to drag it along. It collapsed before the Blader, crimson eyes weak and glazed over. The Blader sat down beside the beak and began to stroke the serpent tenderly.

"Good exercise," he said.

The dragon gave an affirmative noise.

"Four days, that's the longest you've ever been able to elude me."

The serpent hissed, and the Blader nodded, stumbling to his feet and approaching the serpent's pale underbelly. He stroked the scales, at last finding the spot where his blade was dug in. Taking it in both hands, he gently pulled it out, taking care not to hurt the dragon, lest he further wound him. It was a deep gash. Blood was gushing out and splashing the ground, the thirsty earth drinking it up. But he hadn't penetrated anything vital. "It'll heal in time, old friend," he said with a gentle pat of the dragon's underbelly.

The serpent nodded, resting its head down on the ground, hissing slightly. The Blader sat down beside it.

**Well, this story was a disappointment. As of this time, not a single review. I wanted to do the fluffy/twist ending, not sure how it came out though. I think writing something in the Monster World was a mistake, but i just think the Buster Blader is so awesome, he needed a story of his own. Oh well.**


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